


The Wolfhound

by wanderingbutnotlost1221



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Joffrey is a warning in himself, Love, Potentially underage, Sexy times to come later, Smut, That's a lie the sexy times come early, This is just me giving me what I want, Wedding, good Tommen, happiness, hard won, some violence, this is gonna be long, wrote this for me myself and I
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-09-06
Packaged: 2019-04-25 14:44:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14380827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderingbutnotlost1221/pseuds/wanderingbutnotlost1221
Summary: Sansa was well aware of where she was, of who she was surrounded by. Sandor was the one light left in this cursed place and she would cling to him with everything she could. Together, they would survive and maybe even escape. Warning: this is just me writing what I want to read, so is out of character and potentially a bit gratuitous in fluff.





	1. Chapter 1

          Sansa was not as stupid as the whole of Kings Landing thought she was. She was not some spineless coward, yes she feared the King, anyone with a brain should. Joffrey was a sadistic bastard who enjoyed her pain and her tears more than he would ever enjoy a bedding ceremony and sweet words. So she gave him what she wanted. She let him order her beat and whipped and sullied in front of the entire court. All the while she memorised the faces of the people who let this be done to her without a single ounce of pity. Without a single thought to help someone, which in a different world, with a different king, could have been any one of their beloved children. She would remember their faces forever. It was early on that she noticed him. The hound was always at Joffrey’s back, he had stopped her when she had wanted to push Joffrey off the battlements, and he had helped her as much as he could. A member of the kings-guard, though he had taken no oaths, and wore his black leather armour almost as much as the gold and white of the kings-guard. Thinking of the white cloak made her blush and made her heart pick up. He had been the only one to show her any sort of kindness. He had helped her up when she couldn’t stand on her own, had wrapped his cloak around her to preserve her modesty, even though it gained spots of blood, and that any modesty she once had was well and truly ruined. More importantly though, he had risked himself for her, sure he had managed to spin it so that it pleased the king, but he had put himself at risk for her, her last true ally in the lions den. He had never asked for his cloak back, and she had never given it, sometimes taking it out from where she kept it next to the doll her father had given her, and wrapping herself in it, imagining she was wrapped in his arms, the arms of the hound. It helped her sleep on nights where the nightmares plagued her. She noticed how he was always the one to come and fetch her when the king wanted her, how he always looked uncomfortable and almost apologetic when he came for her, noticed how his fingers went white on the pommel of his sword the second someone put their hands on her, how when she cried out for real, when the pain was too much, he would take a step forward like he wanted so badly to come to her aid, but couldn’t. More than once he had called the beating to a stop, coming up with some excuse that pleased the king. He would then gather her to him, or carry her, depending on the extent of injuries, and take her back to her rooms. He was silent at first, but they had begun exchanging words. Sansa had to push him at first, but now he was more open with his words. Silent if it was more than just the two of them. But when they were alone, he spoke with her. Told her stories of his own childhood, told her what he knew of the castle gossip, spoke to her of her brothers victories. He had begun to be her personal escort in a way, normally being the one assigned to follow her around as she walked through the castle gardens and such, knowing that if she stayed in her room to long Joffrey would call for her.

            Something had changed Within her, and within him. She no longer held any fear for the man people say was uglier than a dog, Sansa had long ago learnt that being handsome sometimes hid the most disgusting of hearts, and that having scars sometimes led to being purer of heart than any knight. She had scars of her own now, a particularly ugly one from when Ser Meryn had not been careful cutting away her dress and had left her bleeding from hip bone ot breast. Sandor had roared that day and hit Ser Meryn so hard that he passed out cold. He had turned to the king who asked what he thought he was doing. “Your majesty wants her unspoilt and this whelp took the right from you your grace” the hound had barked. Joffrey had laughed at that and nodded, telling Sandor to take her to her rooms and see her fixed up. He had lifted her like she weighed no more than a doll and carried her silently back to her rooms. She had cried about the scar, he had told her that night the story of his own scars. Of how his brother had pushed him down into the fire. He had stayed while the maester fixed her up and had stayed even after that. She stared at him in silence, taking in the burnt side of his face, as well as the unburnt. He might have been handsome once, very handsome if the unburtn side of his face was anything to go by. But Sansa was over handsome knights who had hearts of black. She knew Sandor, knew that inside he was as beautiful and brave and chivalrous as any knight in her old songs. He cared about her, not for her titles or her brother or her maidenhead, he cared about her as Sansa, and that made all the difference.

            She knew him, knew things about him that no one else in the world knew. He had tld her as he escorted her through the Godswood, where they were truly alone. Little snippets of things; He had told her, when she had run there crying when Ser Meryn came to see her alone in her chambers, threatening to take her like a common whore, that he would never let that happen to her, wouldn’t let someone touch her without her consent. He had found her there, apparently the whole of the red keep was in an uproar looking for her, thinking she had been taken or escaped, and he had known exactly where she would be. He had been the only one to even think to look for her there, showing how far she had fallen that no one but the apparent dog of court took notice of her. He had tucked her into his chest and whispered to her, whispered how she was strong and brave and how he would never let anyone do that to her, how he would kill anyone who dared to touch her without her consent. And when Ser meryn had shown up limping with a bruised face the next day, she knew exactly where he had gotten it, even without his fearful glance towards the hound where he stood behind the king. She loved him for it she realised. She loved this brute of a man who could crush her with a hand, but instead had helped her braid her hair when she couldn’t do it on her own after she had almost been gutted, when she couldn’t bear the thought of someone seeing her so weak, someone besides him. It had been messy and plain, but she had worn it in her hair for all to see the next day. She hadn’t mistaken the gleam in his eyes when he saw her. It had also been then that he had helped her dress for the first time, there was no modesty left between them, but he always kept his eyes closed as he helped her into her shift. His hands were gentle and he always made an attempt to help her, to preserve what little was left of her modesty and dignity. He saved her when no one else would even try. She had come to know him for who he truly was, not the hound, not the persona he put on as the lannisters guard dog. No he was Sandor, her protector, the only one who cared about her besides Shae, and the only one, she determined one night, that she would ever be with willingly. He was the only one who would ever come close to what her father wanted for her. Her father would surely faint at the idea, but Sansa knew that if he had been there… since he had died, that he would approve of Sandor, that he would allow her to be with him.


	2. Chapter 2

          The next time that she was beaten Sandor wasn’t there, and that terrified her. Her tears were real and her fear was real. Normally the tears were faked for Joffrey’s pleasure. She knew that he enjoyed them and wouldn’t stop the beating if she didn’t cry. She had done that in the beginning, steeled herself against tears, against he pain. It was only when she fainted that she was allowed a reprieve. She had woken in Sandor’s arms, not for the first time, but early in their relationship. “You must cry little bird. I know you don’t want to, I know you don’t want him to think he has any power over you, but you must give him what he wants or he will never stop.” Sandor whispered once they got to her room, that had been the first time he ever helped her put ointment on the various pains inflicted upon her. Ever since that day he had helped her, there was little propriety left between them on her side, though he always did his best to ensure she kept what little dignity she had left, he was kind like that. He was her strength, had allowed her to be the wolf she was meant to be. But this time, she was not sure even the tears would save her. Her brother Rob had married Lord Walder Frey’s daughter, the prettiest of the lot if the murmurings at court were to be believed, and it meant that House Frey had dedicated their soldiers to the North, that the twins was no longer a potential ally to the Lannisters. It meant that her brother was winning. Joffrey was raging, even cersie had fire in her eyes. Just as white began to gather on the edge of her vision as Joffrey himself whipped her, the doors banged open and Tyrion strode in with the hound right behind him.

            “What is the meaning of this!” The imp yelled. Joffrey stopped and considered the two of them.

            “I am simply punishing this traitors daughter for what her traitor brother has done, as I will punish him when I capture him.” Joffrey had said with a smirk. He brought the whip down again, but the crack didn’t match with any pain in her back. Sansa looked up and there he was. Righteous fury on his features. Sandor had caught the whip in his hand, allowing it to curl around his wrist. He didn’t look as if the pain of it even phased him.

            “Apologies your majesty, the imp told me I wasn’t to let you hit her again.” The hound ground out. Joffrey Scoffed, but didn’t punish him. Sansa thought, not for the 1st time, that perhaps Joffrey was scared of Sandor, that even the king knew that the wrong move could turn his dog rabid, regardless of supposed allegiances. “Also your grace. You once said… You once said I could ask of you anything I wanted and you would give it to me.” The hound continued.

            “Yes, you saved my life that night Stannis the would-be usurper came to fight us. A king always stands by his word.” Joffrey said smugly.

            “I want the girl” The hound ground out. The whole of court seemed to hodl its breath.

            “YOUR GRACE! Surely you cannot do that, Sansa Stark is still a stark! She is still good to make alliances with. To wed her to the second born son of a lesser house would shame her beyond redemption.” Tyrion’s words came to Sansa’s ears and she looked at him. He nodded to her and she understood. They were saving her. This was her only chance so she did what she did best. She sang a song for them.

            “Please your grace, don’t make me wed him, anything but that! Please I know my traitor family is horrible and I want to please you, but anything but that! I am still a highborn, I am still pure please your grace!” she begged. She saw Sandor’s whole body go rigid and realised he had no idea of the regard she held for him, only the self doubt he had carefully revealed to her on one of their times alone. “No woman would ever want this ugly old dog” He had said to her when she asked why he didn’t take a wife, knowing that he had plenty of coin from winning tourneys and being a sworn shield to the king. She hadn’t had the courage to tell him that there was at least one woman who did, now she wishes she had, wishes she had been more explicit when she told him that he didn’t scare her, that she felt safe with him. It didn’t matter, she would tell him when she got the chance, tell him that he was so much better than all of those fake knights in her stories. He did things because he wanted to do them, he was kind to her because he was kind, not because of some idea of how someone should act towards someone else.

            “Shut up wench!” Joffrey shouted. He paced back and forth in front of his throne. “I cannot marry you obviously, disgusting whore daughter of a traitor… it matters not if you are pure or not. I cannot sully myself with your traitorous blood” He paused seeming deep in thought, not noticing how white Sandors knuckles had gone on the pommel of his sword. Sansa noticed though, and she knew without a doubt Sandor would fight them out of the red keep if he had to, would do all that for her, and then still put ointment on he cuts and call her his little bird. “Yes dog, you have been most faithful to me, and a good dog always gets his reward. You are most loyal to me, perhaps you can teach her how to be loyal to her king, unlike her brother and father. Yes you may have the stark bitch, you’ll take her into your bed and show her what dogs do to wolves. Tonight! Tonight you shall be wed. In the Godswood to honour Lady Sansa’s northern Gods with your union!” Joffrey laughed harshly. “And in the morning I will see to it that your sheets are properly inspected.” He said with a leer. Sansa let out a sob, knowing that it would seal the deal.

            “Thank you your Grace. May I take my future bride to ready her for our wedding?” Sandor asked. Joffrey nodded and grinned, surely imagining that Sandor would hurt her before the wedding. Sansa had to bite back a grin; he would no sooner hurt her than she would hurt him. Sandor turned to meet her tear streaked face and immediately looked anguished, like he had hurt her all the same, like he hadn’t just put his neck on the line to save her once more, but held a hand out to her. She attempted to stand, but realised that she was feeling quite woozy.

            “Please Sandor, I cannot walk” She whispered so only he could hear. He nodded, looking surprised at the sound of his name passing her lips. He gathered her gently in his arms and left the throne room. Sansa met Tyrions eyes as they left and she smiled at him widely. He nodded at her and smirked. He was smarter than anyone gave him credit for, and kinder. He must have known exactly who Sandor was to her, that she wouldn’t be hurt by him, that he was the best thing that could possible happen to her in this horrible place. He had used that not only to gain Sandors favour, but also to help her and she would be forever in his debt.

            “I am sorry little bird” He whispered as he held her to him. Sansa struggled in his hold and finally was able to bring her eyes up to reach him. Although she was in pain she smiled. She leaned in and kissed his cheek, something she had done before and something that never failed to make him draw in a sharp breath.

            “Sandor, surely you don’t think that song was for you?” She whispered quietly, aware that the walls had ears. Sandor was quiet and let out a sigh. She simply tucked herself securely against him and allowed him to carry her in silence. They arrived to her room and he set her down on the bed. He pulled her dress away to see the extent of the damage on her back.

            “I’ll need to see to those.” He said softly. She nodded, the haze of pain overtaking her, now that there was nothing to panic about anymore. She was safe, safer than she had been since she left Winterfell. She felt the coldness of a soft cloth on her back and allowed him to wipe blood from her. He then set in massaging ointment into the cuts, it stung and then went blissfully numb.

            “Sandor” she sighed softly. He paused and sat heavily next to her on the bed.

            “What did you mean little bird?” She looked at him confused and he growled. “When you said that your song wasn’t for me? What did you mean?” He grunted, but didn’t break eye contact with her. His eyes really were something, a different gray to the stark gray, stormier, rather than slate. They were expressive as anything, and she could see emotions swimming in them, too many to discern. But hope was there, buried deep, barely treading water.

            “I did not cry because I do not want to be married to you Sandor. I did not cry at the thought of our life spent together, or with some idea that now you would hurt me, after all this time being kind to me. I know you would never intentionally hurt me, would always try to make sure I am safe. I cried because it is what Joffrey wanted. He wanted to feel like marrying me to you would be the worst of the punishments he has ever given me, so I made him believe I felt that way. You told me once that I needed to give him what he wanted if I wanted to be safe, and that is exactly what I did. Just because he cannot see that I would gladly be your wife doesn’t mean that I will not use it to out advantage.” Sansa said plainly. She knew now was not the time for her fanciful words or pleasantries. If she did not express this to him directly and fervently, then he would never believe her.

            “So what you want to be tied to an ugly old dog for the rest of your days? Fill your belly with my pups, sleep with me, dine with me, let me fuck you?” He growled. Sansa chuckled. He always tried to use crass words to make her retreat when he was uncomfortable. But she knew him too well for that now. She slid her hand up his ruined cheek, knowing that he didn’t feel it, but knowing that it would let him know of her sincerity.

            “To put it crassly, yes.” She paused and looked into his eyes, saw the hope growing stronger. “You aren’t a knight, or a ser, or any fanciful thing I thought I wanted before I left winterfell. You’re crass and harsh and rude.” He snorted but didn’t move away from her. “But you’re also kind, and caring and gentle. You’re the only person here who has ever been gentle with me not because they have to, but because you are a good person, because you care for me. You don’t care for me just because I am the key to the north, just because I am a maiden and can be used to make alliences.” She sighed and leaned in to rest her forehead against his. “Sandor Clegane, there is no one that I have ever met that I would rather have as my husband. No one who I would be prouder to bear the children of.” He went to speak but she shushed him with a chaste kiss to his lips, the first kiss they had ever shared. “I decided months ago that I would give myself to you if you wanted, that I wanted to give myself to you. You awoke the wolf in me. Your scars do not bother me; I hope that my scars do not bother you. Neither of us has had a perfect life. But I want a life, with you by my side.” She finished her speech and closed her eyes, drawing in a breath. “Perhaps… I am sorry that you have thrown away a chance at a normal life, that you are bound to me. Maybe this is not what you wanted… I thought maybe…” Suddenly his mouth was on her’s, kissing her bruisingly, like a dying man trying to get his last breath. She met his tongue with hers, not sure what she was doing, but she had listened to shae enough to get the gist of it. She moaned, not understanding how such a simple act could feel so good. Feel so right. They pulled away from each other panting.

            “Once I have you, I will not be able to let you go. So you must be sincere with me Sansa, no songs, only the truth.” He whispered hoarsely. Sansa smiled and leaned in to his him, feeling him tremble beneath her. She shifted then, helping him pull of his armour silently. She lay down and pulled him to lie next to her. They face each other and she smiled.

            “ I love you Sandor. From this day, until my last” She said softly. He nodded and allowed himself to cry for her. The tears ran silently down both of their cheeks and they helped the other to wipe them away. “We will need to make it seem as if I am miserable. As if I am mistreated.” Sansa said after the tears had stopped and she had tucked herself into his chest, resting her head on the juncture of his neck and shoulder.

            “Yes we will. Until I can take you from this place.” His voice mad his chest rumble beneath her. Before either of them could act the door flew open and shae barged in. Sandor already had his knife out and had tucked Sansa beneath him.

            “YOU!” Shae shouted! She came at him in a fury, standing out of the way of his knife. “You get away from her right now! You disgusting dog! I know what you have done, taken her like a fucking token for you to pluck and have for yourself, to do with what you want. Well let me tell you, you will not be forcing her into anything you disgusting fucker! I thought you cared for her! Now here you are..” Shae seemed to pause and take in the scene. All her anger flew out of her. “here you are lying in bed keeping her warm.” She said softly. Sandor nodded and put the knife back into his sheath.

            “Shae, did Tyrion tell you?” Sansa asked softly. Shae met her eyes and nodded. Then she smiled sadly.

            “You are not upset by it.” It wasn’t a question, but Sansa shook her head anyways. “Yes I suppose I should have guessed that.” She turned her head to look at Sandor who had sat up against the headboard and supported Sansa against his chest. “And you Clegane, what do you think of your upcoming marriage? I know it was your idea, thought you could get into her, thought you could force yourself on her with the kings permission? Because I will tell you now, that I will slit your throat myself if you so much as harm a single hair on her head.” Shae said, eyes blazing anew. Sandor chuckled, instead of getting angry.

            “It was my idea, aye. But I would spend the rest of my life never knowing the touch of a woman if she commanded. I will not force her. I will never force her. I did it to keep her safe. As safe as she can be here.” Sandor said seriously. Shae stared at him for a long while, searching his eyes for something, which she evidently found as she nodded.

            “You love each other” She said simply. Sandor spluttered and coughed, but then turned to Sansa. He nodded, not taking his eyes from her. She smiled and leaned forward to kiss him chastely and then looked at Shae, nodding herself. “Well as nice as that is, we have only a few hours until you are wed, and lady sansa needs to get ready for her wedding. Joffrey may try and make a jest of it, but if you two are to be wed, I’ll have it done right.” Shae said seriously. Sandor nodded.

            “Would you like me to stay and help you?” He asked. Shae gapped at him and then nodded quickly. She knew that he took care of Sansa when she wsa unable to, or when Sansa refused her help, but didn’t expect him to show this sie of himself to her, perhaps she had been more wrong about the hound than even she knew.

            “I will need your help getting her in and out of the bath. And you can apply the ointment to her back once I have done her hair. You will leave before she dresses though. That will be a surprise. And you’ll need a bath as well. You smell of dog on the best of days.” Shae smirked.

            “Shae! You mustn’t speak of him like that!” Sansa tried to sound admonishing, but she simply sounded happy.

            “I shall speak of him how ever I please. Not everyone is so afraid of him” She said smartly as she leaned out of the door to demand a bath be brought to the room. Sandor chuckled and helped sansa to stand. The bath was brought quickly and the fire was lit in the room to allow sansa to be confortable. The servants who came pretended they didn’t see sandor standing in the room supporting sansa as she stood. She frowned at that, but the kiss sandor placed a the back of her neck was enough to distract her. When they left, and after she had undressed completelty, Sandor lifted her, with his eyes closed the entire time as to preserve her modesty, into the tub as Shae poured soothing salts and lemon oil into it. Sansa hissed as the hot water touched the cuts on her back but settled quickly. Without thinking Sandor picked up the cloth before shae could reach and and lathered it with the lemon and lavender scented soap he knew she favoured. Without a thought he began washing he back tenderly, avoiding the cuts as best he could. He didn’t see Shae gaping at him, nor did he see Sansa sweet smile as she met Shae’s eyes. Shae nodded once and smiled almost sadly at the two of them. Sansa knew what picture they must paint, the gruff warrior, the hound, caressing and carefully washing the back of the sister of the king in the north. All without a thought, he had simply done what he wanted, and all that he seemed to want was her comfort. He finished her back and looked up to see the two women smiling at one another.

            “You should do the rest little bird” He said gruffly, obviously embarrassed at his tender touch being observed by another. Sansa nodded and leaned forward to wash the rest of herself, hissing at the pull of her back, but not complaining. Sandor simply stared at her neck, eyes flickering up to meet shae’s. he was surprised at how warmly she looked at him and the slight nod she gave him before she turned to busy herself with something. When Sansa finished cleaning herself she turned to look at Sandor. She seemed ready to say something but paused at the sight of him staring at her. She blushed, but couldn’t help but lean in and kiss him, more passionately than the last chaste kiss they had shared. Sandor met her lips with his own enthusiasm, obviously pleased that she chose to kiss him. His hand wound into her hair, the other gripping her face.

            “I will be right back” Shae said softly. The door shut and Sandor pulled away from her.

            “Will you wash my hair? I’m sorry. I just can’t reach it and I’d like it to look nice for our wedding. Normally shae would do it but she’s left and you’re here and I” Sandor cut her babbling off with another soft press of their lips.

            “I will wash it sansa. But first will you let me mark you. So that Joffrey thinks I’ve hurt you. I don’t want to hurt you little bird, but I must.” He sounded distraught but Sansa simply nodded. He leaned in to kiss her, bruisingly, pulling her lip in between his and sucking on it, sure to leave a mark there. It made sansa tingle from the tips of her fingers all the way to her toes and she grew warm. He moved away from her mouth and kissed down her jawline, to her neck. He laved attention on one spot, sucking a bruise into it, before he bit down. Sansa cried out at that, but it wasn’t from pain. She was wet, something she had only experienced after certain dreams, and the bite had felt good, just like the rest of his caresses. “I’m sorry little bird” Sandor whispered against her neck.

            “Sandor… I… Please” Sansa was unsure how to say what she wanted, she wasn’t even sure what she wanted. Sandor drew back to look at her. His mouth dropped when he saw her eyes glazed with lust. “Please touch me” she finally forced out, despite the fact that it made her face flame, all the way down to her chest. Sandor hesitated, but suddenly he was kissing her fiercly, and his hand was on her breast, thumb rubbing over her nipple. His hand was warmer than the water, and it held her breast completely. The sensation of his thumb over her sensitive nipple made her whimper and she pressed her thighs together hoping to get some relief from the ache in her woman’s place.

            “Little Bird, Sansa.” He groaned as he pulled away from her and looked at her. She was beautiful, stunning even. So much better than a dog like him deserved. “Can I…” he swallowed and his throat clicked. He wanted to give her pleasure. He had never much cared for his partner’s pleasure before, had never really cared except for getting himself off in something that wasn’t his fist from time to time. But now, despite the fact that he was rock hard, all eh could think about was all he knew about pleasuring a woman, about that place above their hole that made them cry out and shake and come. “Can I touch you? Let me pleasure you.” Sandor said softly. Sansa paused and met his eyes. Never breaking eye contact she took the hand that was on her breast and guided it deeper into the water, to her core. She gasped at the first stroke over her mound. Gasped again as Sandor placed his mouth back on her neck sucking another bruise. She was pressed against his chest now, him leaning over her to reach her. His fingers slipped between her folds, to the place she was wet for him. Normally he had to use something to slick the way, most women couldn’t be turned on for him they would be for another. He stroked over her hole a few times, before dipping a single finger in, careful not to go too far and break her maidenhood. She gasped at the intrusion and tightened around his finger. Sandor groaned at the thought that he might have his cock in her tonight, that the vice like grip would surely kill him. It would be an honourable death. He searched out the hardened flesh he knew to be the button of pleasure on women. He found it and stroked over it. She groaned and gasped and bucked into his hand. He grinned ferally.

            “Oh gods Sandor. Please… Please don’t stop” She moaned his name so prettily, he was certain he would do anything she asked of him in that moment.

            “Do you like that little bird? Like the feeling of my finger in your cunt, my hands giving you pleasure?” The sound of his voice made her clench around him again. He picked up his pace, fucking his first two knuckled in and out of her as he circled her clit. She moaned so prettily, pressed herself against his hand so nicely. His other hand had long given up trying to stave off his own pleasure and had unlaced his trousers and was working languidly on his cock. He sped up both hands and soon she was clenching down on his finger, her thighs tightening around his hand as she came for him. He groaned his own release and bit down into her shoulder again. Her breathing slowed and he grinned at the blush upon her cheek.He tucked himself back into his trousers, wiping his release onto the already dirty wash cloth. “I hope I can make you sing like that again tonight” He said as he poured water over her hair. She didn’t open her eyes but hummed. He smiled, knowing that he had brought her such blissful relaxation. She finally opened her eyes as he was lathering her hair.

            “Sandor?”

            “Yes?”

            “What was that?” She sounded astonished, surprised that she could feel pleasure.

            “That was an orgasm, a climax. Have you never touched yourself before Sansa?” He wouldn’t be surprised if she hadn’t always the proper lady his little bird.

            “No I… I’ve touched my breast and it made me feel good. But that was… I didn’t even know I could feel like that. I always thought that sex would be another duty. I didn’t… no one told me I would want it. Not like that. Or that you could… That you could bring me such pleasure.” She said softly. Sandor smiled and rinsed her hair.

            “Some men do not care about their wives pleasures, or their whores pleasures, whichever it is. I’m not surprised your septa never mentioned it though, not very godly to mention. I will try to to make you feel like that every time we lie together. I want your pleasure almost as much as I want my own.” He said softly. Suddenly Sansa sat up in her bath.

            “Wait… you didn’t. I didn’t pleasure you did I! Oh no I’m sorry I should of done something in return. You’ve made me feel so good and I;ve been so selfish.”

            “Hush little bird. I have had my pleasure. And I will have more of it tonight. I gained enough pleasure knowing that I was bringing you that pleasure, for the first time ever. Don’t worry yourself.” He chuckled and stood to bring her a towel. It was then that shae returned with a heavy bag. She saw the two of them and her eyes flickered down to the bruises around Sansa’s neck and the bright blush upon both of their faces.

            “Well I suppose I won’t have to worry about you getting along in the marriage bed” She joked. Sansa chocked and Sandor chuckled. Shae took the towel from Sandor and he turned closed his eyes as he lifted sansa from her bath. He knew he would see her naked tonight. He hoped he would see her naked tonight. She could say no though, and he would sleep on the floor by her bed like a good dog. But if what had just transpired was anything to go by, he had a good chance. Shae pinned her hari atop her head and Slipped a robe around her , dropping it from one arm so that sandor could reach her back. “If you will apply the ointment to her back Clegane, then go and see to yourself. You are marrying a lady and you will present yourself as such.” Shae said haughtily. Sandor nodded and reapplied the ointment to Sansas back, as shae oiled her hair carefully. He kissed her neck and shoulders, uncaring of Shae’s watchful eye. Finally he was done and pressed a final kiss to the nape of her neck, lingering there.

            “I will see you in the Godswood Sansa.” He whispered. She met his eyes in the mirror and smiled brightly.

            “I will see you soon husband” She said with a blush. He almost groaned and hurried away from her, afraid that he would never be able to leave her side if he didn’t do so immediately.


	3. Chapter 3

           He hurried to his rooms, calling for a maid to bring him a bath on his way. When he got there he carefully dug through his trunk until he got to the bottom and pulled out the cloak at the bottom. It was Gold and Black, embroidered with the three hounds of his house sigil. It had been the last thing his sister ever gave to him before she died. It had been the same one that his father had put on his mothers shoulders. Gregor had killed them all. Murdered all of his family, except for Sandor. Eiline had been the only one who believed he could ever be loved after what Gregor did to him. She had been with him as he healed, had told him that one day someone would love him not despite his scars, but because of them. He’d laughed. He wondered what his sister would think, him marrying a highborn lady, the princess in the North depending on who you asked. She would probably laugh and tell him that she was always right and not to question her ever again. He sighed at the thought. It had been many years since Gregor took her away from him, the last thing that made him truly happy. He would never let Gregor take away this, Sansa. He would kill him if he even thought of it. As the maids came in with his bath he handed the cloak to one of them, telling them to have it cleaned and dried as soon as possible, within the hour if possible. She hadn’t met his eyes, but had nodded anyways and hurried off. He sunk into the bath with a sigh, almost wishing he could add the scent of lemons, so that he could feel like she was here in the room with him. He sighed again, soon she would be. They would be put in different rooms, no women were allowed in the tower of the kingsguard, for obvious reasons. Though that obviously didn’t apply to whores. Just as he was thinking of how to procure a new room a knock sounded on the door.

            “Who is it?” He grumbled. He may have already washed and cleaned his hair, but he was enjoying the bath for once.

            “The hand of the king. Let me in Clegane” Tyrion sounded smug.

            “Open the door yourself Imp, I am in the bath.” There was some scuffling, and finally the door opened and Tyrion let himself in before closing it behind himself with some struggle. “How can I help you my lord?” He sneered. Truly Sandor held no ill will for the Imp, trusted him even. He had helped him come up with the plan to marry himself to Sansa, had been sure it would work, even when Sandor had been against it, not wanting to ruin what he had built with his little bird.

            “Well Clegane, I have taken the liberty of getting you new accommodation within the keep. A wing that is rarely used by anyone; It was where Rhaegar is said to have kept Lyanna Stark. Though the room I’ve chosen doesn’t look anything like the dungeon that it would be if she was held against her will.” Tyrion grinned and the hound nodded.

            “Yes I was just thinking about that myself. Thank you. I’m sure you’ll have told Shae that she needs to have Sansa pack her things?” He said, rising from the bath, uncaring for his own nudity. He wrapped a towel around his hips and ran oiled fingers through his hair, before combing it.

            “Well yes. Also I passed the maid earlier with your cloak. I am glad you had that, wasn’t sure I could commission something in time. Shae already had the wedding gown, though the hidden slit for a knife strapped to her thigh won’t be necessary now I suppose.” Tyrion said with a grin. Sandor turned a sharp eye on him.

            “You knew Sansa would not be… that she would be okay marrying a dog. I know I gave you my assurances that I wouldn’t harm her. I was surprised you agreed to my idea, that you would even allow me to suggest it.” Sandor ground out. Tyrion grinned, obviously pleased with himself.

            “Yes and you would too if you learnt to open your eyes and not doubt yourself so much. Sansa is obviously enamoured with you. And you obviously love her. It was more of my ingenious plans. Joffrey the idiot has no idea that the two of you will be happy together.” Tyrion paused and went to pour himself some wine from the flagon the table. Sandor hadn’t drunk much recently. Not when he could get to sleep with the feel of her lips pressed to his cheek, her hand in his. The sickness that came from it was enough to tell him he didn’t want to go back down that road again. “What’s more, the North is not the south. If a man marries a noblewoman of higher heritage than himself, he adopts her name, unless he is a lord himself. You’ll not be a Clegane anymore. You’ll be a Stark. She will likely still go by lady Clegane while in the south, but by her ways you will be lord stark. Obviously nothing compared to King Stark, the king in the north, but someone to be respected never the less.” Tyrion said with a grin.

            “What?” Sandor was in the middle of pulling on his breeches, the cleanest and newest pair he had. They were for formal occasions and had never actually been worn.

            “Yes. She will keep her name, unless she chooses to take up the name Clegane. You can keep your name, but you will be Lord Stark.” Tyrion explained. Sandor felt like he was dying. He could leave the name Clegane behind him, could become a stark. She could keep her name; keep her heritage, her wolf. “Though, Sansa mentioned she would quite like to do a hyphenated name. Clegane-Stark, something about finally letting you bring the honour your name deserves back to it.” Tyrion continued, like he wasn’t shattering Sandor’s whole world and rebuilding it into a dream, for surely this couldn’t be real.

            “I… I don’t know what to say.” Sandor finally stated. His voice was gruff, choked as he was with emotion.

            “Well you’ll say nothing, until the bedding ceremony is concluded and no one can mistake that she is your lady wife in law and in the eyes of the Gods. Then they won’t be able to take her away from you even though they will want to.” Tyrion said seriously. Sandor nodded as he leant down to pack his meagre belongings. There was a knock on the door and the maid came in with his freshly cleaned and pressed cloak. Had it already been that long? Looking out the window concluded that yes, the sun was already sinking into the sea, he was to meet Sansa in but a few hours time. “I’ll take my leave of you. I’ll send maids to move you into your new bedchambers while the ceremony is taking place. So that you don’t have to do it yourself.” Tyrion said as he made his way out of the room.

 

**Sansa**

 

            “You tease him and yet all the Dog does is come to you for affection and love” Shae said as soon as Sandor had left the room. Sansa smiled softly.

            “Yes, but he is to be my husband. I want to be able to make him smile. I want his affection and love. Want it so badly I feel like I am drowning in my own want at some points.” Sansa admitted as Shae finished drying her hair and let it hang to her waist, allowing the air to completely dry it.

            “And now that you know he feels the same?” Shae asked. Sansa smiled softly and then laughed.

            “I don’t even know. I feel so… so happy.” Sansa said softly. Shae smiled.

            “And how do you feel about whatever it is that you two were doing before I came in?” Shae asked laughing. Sansa blushed from the roots of her hair down to her toes. Shae only laughed louder. “Tell me was it good for you?” Shae asked after a second.

            “It was only good for me. He touched me down there. Touched something that made me feel like I was on fire. It felt so good. And I orgasmed… that’s what he said… It felt. God’s Shae…. It felt amazing.” Sansa admitted. Shae nodded.

            “And what did you do for him?” She asked. Sansa blushed even harder but couldn’t keep the grin off of her face.

            “Nothing. He said that he had gotten his pleasure from giving me pleasure.” Sansa whispered. Shae stared at her for a second before laughing.

            “Gods be good. Of course the hound would be exceptional at everything inside the bed. He’s already so good at everything outside of it, even with a sour face an attitude like his.” Shae laughed again. “We used to say in the whorehouse, if you can find a man who wants your pleasure as much as his own, trick him into marriage as soon as possible.” Her features softened and she pet Sansa’s hair. “Are you nervous for the bedding tonight?” Sansa bit her lip, relishing in the sting from the bruise Sandor left there and met Shae’s eyes.

            “Yes. I know it will hurt, but that is not what I am scared of. What if I cannot pleasure him the way that he has pleasured me. The way that he plans on pleasuring me tonight?” Sansa sighed. “I just want to make him feel as good as I did. Want him to know how much I want him. That I am not just doing it out of duty.” Sansa admitted.

            “Well. Luckily you know someone that worked in a whorehouse. I will teach you a few tricks on what makes a man go wild. That way you can please your husband. Though from what he’s said, just being with you will bring him pleasure. Most men are easy, but I will teach you anyways. You never know when you might need to use a few tricks against him” Shae nodded and began to give Sansa a very detailed description of different positions, different ways she could take him into her. Then there was the before actual sex, like how he had touched her today. Sansa’s face was flaming red by the time shae was done, and she felt like she might not be able to look Sandor in the face if she did some of the things that shae suggested. But she was also wet in her woman place imagining Sandor doing those things with her. Shae brushed her hair and styled it, keeping it in the less intricate northern way, as Sansa sat and thought about it. Finally it was time to dress and Sansa realised she didn’t have a wedding dress.

            “Oh shae, how can I go to him in any of the things he has seen me in before. In the dresses he has carried me back in half torn off of me! He will think that I am a fool!” Sansa felt like crying, but knew shae would throw a fit if she were to ruin the makeup around her eyes. Shae smirked.

            “My dear Sansa. My lovely child. I have already gotten your gown. It was something I wanted you to have.. so that Joffrey couldn’t dictate everything. Of your own. I hope.. I hope you like it.” Shae brought the bundle she had brought in before Sandor left and unzipped it. There was the most beautiful white dress Sansa had ever seen. And there was a maiden’s cape to go with it as well. The stepped forward and gasped. The colours had been stripped from it, dyed the purest white, though in the fur some colour still remained at the roots. The leather straps had obviously been adjusted and the excess cut from the bottom,, but it was unmistakeably his, her fathers cloak. Sansa threw herself at Shae.

            “Oh gods shae. You… How did you even? Thank you. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I don’t know what I have done in this life to deserve you, but you are one of the best things to ever have happened to me.” Sansa said into her shoulder. She wouldn’t cry, not now. But this was… more than she could ever imagine. Her father was accompanying her to her wedding, in the only way he ever could.

            “Oh my dear child. You have no idea how glad I am that you like it. I love you Sansa.” Shae said softly. Sansa nodded.

            “I love you as well. Now lets get me dressed, my husband awaits me.”

            “So he does. First let me pack your things. You won’t be in this room any longer. Lord Tyrion has gotten you new rooms to share with your husband.” Shae set about packing the things that mattered to Sansa, being sure to accidentally leave things Joffrey had given her. It wouldn’t become of a lady to wear another mans favour when she was married. Shae would sell them and give Sansa the coin. It didn’t take long. Sansa’s things had been ruined when they came for her and her father. And she had grown out of almost all of her gowns. There was the white stained cloak that Shae knew was Sandor’s, a doll, and a few other miscellaneous items that had been brought from Winterfell. Finally it was time to dress Sansa. She stepped into her shift carefully, trying not the pain her back. They left off the corset, knowing that she was thin enough to, and that her back would be unable to take the pain. Finally Shae tied the dress onto her. Sansa met her eyes in the mirror and gasped. It was lovelier on her than it looked. It was… everything she could have ever wanted in a gown, done in the northern style, though shae had pointed out the hidden slit should she ever need it. Finally Shae put the cloak on her and Sansa felt like for the first time she was strong enough to face the world. Be it the Targaryan girl with her dragons, or the Stranger himself. She was a Stark, her father’s daughter, and she could survive anything. She had Sandor now; soon no one would be able to take him from her. There was a knock at the door and surprisingly Prince Tommen walked in. He smiled shyly at her.

            “There was... There was a fight over who would accompany you to your wedding. Many saying they would not help a traitors daughter, other being deemed not highly esteemed enough. I snuck away. I hope you will allow me to give you away tonight Lady Sansa.” Tommen spoke softly, but never looked away from her eyes. He was a sweet boy, somehow untouched by the madness that lived in Cersei and Joffrey.

            “Why would you want to do that my prince?” Sansa asked. Tommen shrugged.

            “You love each other. The hound has always been kind to me, he even saves Sir Pounce from Joffrey a lot. And you have always been kind to me. It would be an honour as a prince to give you away.” Tommen said smiling.

            “It would be an honour to be given away by you my prince. And how do you know Sandor and I love one another? Everyone seems to think I am afraid of him, that he will hurt me” Sansa said as she walked closer to Tommen. Tommen scoffed.

            “They’re idiots if they cannot see. He always wants to help you, your eyes are always following the other. And… and I just know. I can feel it. He doesn’t hurt people he isn’t ordered to. And he wouldn’t hurt you any more than he would hurt sir pounce.” Tommen was confident in his answer and Sansa smiled brightly.

            “You are correct. But it’s our little secret.” She whispered. Tommen nodded eagerly, reminding her so much of her brothers that it hurt a little bit. “Then I believe my prince, that it is time for you to give me away. Let us go to the Godswood.” She took his arm and let herself be led through the halls. She saw Ser Meryn followed by some others coming their way, and knew that he was coming to escort her.

            “My prince, I will escort Lady Stark to her wedding” Ser Meryn attempted. But prince Tommen turned a cold stare on him.

            “Thank you Ser, but Lady Sansa has already given me the honour, and it would sully her honour for me to turn from that now. It would sully my honour as well. You may walk behind us as an escort.” There were no more words after that, but Sansa Squeezed his arm in thanks. “I meant to say my Lady, you look beautiful” Tommen said as they stepped down the path to the Godswood. Sansa felt her heart go out to this sweet little boy.

            “Thank you my Prince. You are handsome as ever.” The Godswood was lit with torches, and ladies and lords were stood on either side of a lit path. Some were obviously gawking at Sansa, especially at who had come to escort her. The young prince was well loved, and no one would dare say a single thing against him. As they made their way slowly down the path, Sansa saw him. Sandor looked lovely, handsome, like every dream she had ever had and better. The way he looked at her, with fire in his eyes, made her feel as if she was the only woman in the world, as if she was the only person in the world. They came to the end of the path and paused.

            “Who comes here tonight?” The sept asked. Tommen responded easily.

           “I, Prince Tommen of the house Baratheon bring Lady Sansa, of house Stark to be wed.”

           “Sandor of House, Clegane” Sandor’s gruff voice sent a shiver through her.

           “Do you accept this man Lady Stark?” Sansa remembered at the last minute that she could not smile as widely as she wanted. She nodded.

           “I accept him.”

           “And do you, Sandor Clegane accept this woman?”

           “Aye, I accept her.”

           “Then in the eyes of the old gods and the new, you may say the words.” Their hands were bound together with blue cloth as they repeated the words. _Father Smith Warrior. Mother Maiden Crone. Stranger. I am hers and she is mine, I am his and he is mine, from this day until our last day._ And then it was over. Sansa looked up at her new husband, knowing that Joffrey was looking she pretended to flinch, but sent him a small smile. The cloaking happened next, Tommen held on to her fathers cloak as Sandor put his own on her, bringing her under his protection. Then it was done.

           They were whisked off to the feast, Prince Tommen deciding to walk with them instead of with his family. He chattered to them, looking them both in the eyes very seriously. “I promise to keep your secret, as long as you will both be my friends” He demanded. Sansa met Sandor’s eye and nodded. Together they both nodded solemnly. The feast was small, certainly not what was expected of a lady stark being married. But it seemed that someone had been kind enough to tell them that Lemon cakes were her favourite and Sansa almost gorged herself on them. Suddenly Joffrey stood up.

           “It is time for the Bedding ceremony!” He called. Sansa suddenly remembered that all these men were going to be touching her, ripping at her clothes. She met Sandor’s eyes and looked away. She knew that they c[could see the bruises on her neck, knew they expected him to be harsh with her. But she only wanted his bruises, no one else’s. Sandor growled and stood.

           “If it pleases your grace, I would be the only one to… mark her tonight. Rest assured the bedding will take place.” Sansa remembered to whimper at that and Joffrey seemed pleased. He nodded and sat back down, as Sandor reached down and threw Sansa over his shoulder. She screeched, not expecting it, and then had to hold in a laugh. Sandor stormed out of the feast, and as soon as they rounded the corner he spun her down into his arms, holding her like he so often had before. “Ready for your bedding Lady Stark?” He growled. Sansa shivered and then met his eyes.

           “If I’m not?” She challenged. He smiled softly and nodded.

           “We’ll have to cut my thigh to make it look like we have, and to keep the cut hidden.” He said simply. Sansa nodded seriously and then smiled.

           “I couldn’t possibly manage to sleep next to you without you giving me a proper bedding, I am your lady wife now, I deserve a good bedding.” She said, demanded even. Sandor's eyes widened and he picked up his pace, soon they were at the door to their new accommodation. The door was opened and immediately closed and Sansa found herself being let down, only to be hefted up again and pressed against it. She squeaked against Sandor’s lips, but let her legs wrap around his hips regardless and she kissed him back passionately.

           “You looked so good coming down that aisle, on the princes arm not less. How did that happen and what did he mean?” Sandor gasped as he finally settled her down to take off his cloak from her shoulders, then beginning to unlace her dress with clumsy fingers.

           “He came to my room saying they were all having a discussion about it that bored him and was rude so he decided he was the best man for the job. And the secret… he know that we… that I love you, and that you care for me.” She said softly. Sandor paused and then leant forward to kiss just below her ear.

           “That I love you.” he whispered so quietly that she almost missed it. Sansa almost sobbed in happiness, but steeled herself as he finally finished the laces of her dress and allowed her to step out of it. She turned to him, now only in her shift and pressed herself against him. He wrapped his arms around her, settling his hands on her hips and held her to him. They kissed passionately, while he walked her backwards to their new bed. Her knees hit the bed and she fell backwards, hissing as she went. Suddenly Sandor’s hands were not on her anymore and he took a step back.

           “Your back!” He exclaimed. Sansa nodded and pulled her shift off. Her back wasn’t bleeding anymore, but it had only been that morning that she was whipped. “Lay down, face down.” Sandor said as he went to search for something. Sansa did as she was bid, wondering what he had in mind, if he wasn’t going to take her because she was injured. She was wet between her legs again and she could feel an ache beginning to form. Suddenly she heard him coming to the edge of the bed and he sat on it, straddling her arse. His hard cock was pressed into her flesh and she gasped and tried to buck up into him. He chuckled. “Shh little bird. Calm down. We have all night for that. For now let me take care of you.” Then he began to smooth the ointment onto her back. She immediately felt better as the numbing effects took place. This time was different though, he didn’t just put it on, and he caressed her, massaged knots out of her back and left her feeling utterly relaxed and pliable. Suddenly his hands were gone and she was being turned onto her back. She smiled dreamily up at him.

           “Sandor” She said softly. He groaned and leaned down to press his lips against hers. Sansa gasped at the feeling of him pressing against her in just her small clothes. His mouth moved to her neck, licking, sucking, biting and Sansa couldn’t help but buck her hips up against his. She reached for the hem of his shirt, drawing it up. He pulled back from her, causing her to whimper.

           “Shh little bird. I am here. I am not going anywhere.” He chuckled. He threw his jerking and shirt off, leaving his chest bared to her. He was covered in scars, but he was also pure muscle. His shoulders looked even larger than when he was clothed, and he was covered in a fine smattering of hair that darkened as it trailed off into his breeches. She lifted her hands and ran them over his chest in wonder. He was so warm and his skin was pulled taunt over his muscles. Sansa looked up at him to see him watching her. She smiled and reached up to curl and arm around his neck to bring his lips back down to hers. He shifted so that one of his thighs was pressed in between hers, pressed against the warm wetness of her woman’s place. Sansa groaned at how good the pressure felt and raised and lowered her hips against him. “Mmm little bird are you riding my thigh?” Sansa blushed and stilled her hips, but Sandor swept a hand under them and moved her up and down once more. She threw her head back and moaned aloud. His hands untied her upper small clothes, baring her breasts to him. She didn’t even have time to register it before his mouth descended on her nipple. An electric shock went through her, straight through her belly to the warmth pooling between her thighs.

           “Gods Sandor! Please” She didn’t know what it was she was begging for. Mostly for him to never stop. He switched his mouth to her other nipple, causing her to cry out. She could feel his grin against her and it made her smile, even through her haze of lust, knowing that he was enjoying himself. His hand was on the laces of her underclothes and he pulled back to meet her eyes. There was a question there and Sansa couldn’t help her self as she felt her eyes go teary. He seemed shocked at that and immediately pulled back but Sansa quickly caught him. “Sandor, there is no one else I would ever want to do this with. I love you, and I want you. Now.” To punctuate her sentence she rose against his thigh once more. He smiled down at her.

           “As you command little bird” Suddenly her clothes were gone, baring her to him. He sat back to take her in, and though she felt completely exposed she didn’t move to cover herself as she might have once. She instead drank him in. Noticing the bulge in his trousers, she reached a hand out to caress it. It was huge and hot and hard. She gulped at the idea of that inside of her, half nervous, and half excited at the prospect. Sandor groaned as she worked her hand over it from outside his breeches. Remembering what Shae had told her, she quickly fumbled to untie the laces and draw him out. Sandor stared at her as she wrapped her hand around his arousal. He was huge; there was no way that this was the normal size of men, though he was a huge man, so why shouldn’t this be proportionate? The thought of him inside of her made the ache even worse. Suddenly his mouth was back on her, kissing his way down her body, stopping to kiss along the entire length of her scar. He stopped and met her eyes before kissing lower, in between her thighs. Finally he kissed her on her woman’s place and it felt like Sansa was on fire.

           “Sandor, oh gods. That’s… that’s most improper.” She said, though the thought of him stopping made her want to kill someone. Sandor chuckled and the vibrations went through her like a shock wave. A finger joined his tongue and went inside of her.

           “Yes, it is. Do you want me to stop?” He grinned up at her. Sansa shuddered.

           “Don’t you dare” With that he dove back in, sucking and nibbling on that place in her folds that made her see stars. Another finger joined the first, careful still not to press to deep. A long suck to her clit had Sansa coming, her back arching as she shouted his name. While she was riding the aftershocks of her orgasm, Sandor carefully pushed through her Maidens veil, breaking it with his fingers. He continued to pump his fingers in and out of her, before finally removing them as her trembling subsided. He wiped the small amount of blood on his fingers onto the bed sheet, knowing that it would be necessary for their marriage to be proven consummated. He leaned up over Sansa, enjoying the glassy look in her eyes. He quickly removed his breeches, baring himself to her and groaned and he rubbed himself against her. Sansa shuddered again and looked up at him. “Will I be able to do that more than once in a night? It feels as if… as if I could.” She said sounding more bewildered than anything, Sandor nodded.

           “ You can. Sansa. I need. Please can I?” His arousal was painful, more painful than it had ever been before. Knowing the sweet clench of her around him was all he wanted, but he wouldn’t take that which wasn’t given. Her eyes widened and she nodded.

           “Please Sandor, I want to feel you inside of me.” Sansa’s voice was filled with lust, it made Sandor’s cock twitch. He took himself in hand, giving a few lazy pumps before he ran his head along her slit, catching on that sensitive nub. He then pressed himself into her, sinking into that glorious heat. Perhaps fire wasn’t so bad after all. Sansa’s breath caught and she shut her eyes, causing him to still his hips.

           “Painful?” He growled out. HE didn’t know if he could stop if she asked him to. He would try though. Sansa opened her eyes and met his.

           “No.. Not painful. Just different. I feel full and stretched. I thought I would be able to feel my maidens veil?” She paused and shifted her hips experimentally, pressing him deeper into her. They both groaned at that and Sandor’s grip on her hip became tight enough to leave bruises. She did it again, and he growled.

           “I took that with my fingers when you were having your pleasure.” He paused and moaned as she shifted against him. “I won’t last long if you keep doing that.” He muttered. Sansa nodded.

           “Well we have the rest of our lives to practice” She said primly. Sandor couldn’t help but push fully into her then, causing her to gasp. The rest of their lives…. It still felt like a dream to him. How could this Maiden made flesh possibly want to spend the rest of her life with him? Slowly he pulled out, only to press back in again, enjoying the fluttering of her muscles around him. She moaned and pulled him down to kiss her, drawing away only to nibble along his jaw and neck. One of his hands came up and pressed against her shoulder, drawing her to him, so the only point of contact on the bed was where their hips joined. He liked that, having all of the power over her, knowing that she gave it to him willingly.

           Sansa felt like she was on fire. Her septa had never even hinted that anything about this could be good, let alone this feeling of complete pleasure. The pain was still there, a dull ache from being stretched, and she wondered if there was blood from her maiden’s veil, but nothing like the horrors her septa and mother had spoken about. It seemed perhaps Shae was right and Sandor was extraordinary in this. Sansa didn’t think she would ever be able to get a comparison, not that she wanted to. All she needed was Sandor. She could feel her body begin to build towards that peak again, and she bucked her hips up to meet Sandor’s thrusts, searching for something. HE chuckled and rolled onto his back, bringing Sansa with him so she was straddled over his lap. Shae had told her about this, thank the Gods, or else Sansa would have been at a loss for what he wanted. As it was she began to mover her hips up and down, ending on a small circle that brought her sensitive nub in contact with him, stimulating her towards her orgasm. The new angle made him feel like he was even deeper in her, but it felt so good. “Gods Sandor” She moaned his name, not even caring that she sounded more wanton than a lady ever should, all she cared about was the pleasure she was receiving. Sandor seemed to be enjoying himself as much as she was. His head was thrown back, baring his neck, one hand on her hip gripping tightly, the other holding her breast. At one point, the hand on her breast travelled up to press against the bite he had given to her before the wedding. She cried out and suddenly she was coming, her muscles contracting around his cock. He fucked her through it, then turned them over and thrust a handful of times before releasing his seed inside of her. They were both panting, a slick warmth between them. After a few moments Sandor pulled himself out her and stood from the bed on seemingly shaky legs. “Where are you going?” She asked softly, worried that now he would leave her. Sandor chuckled but didn’t answer. Sansa felt a sadness come over her. Perhaps he wasn’t as happy with her performance as she thought he was, as he had just left her there. Sandor stepped behind the washing screen and came back a second later with a damp cloth. Suddenly Sansa felt like an idiot. He was only being sweet and here she was thinking the worst of him. He took the rag and wiped the sweat from her body, then carefully cleaned her thighs and between her legs, before roughly doing the same to himself. He tossed the rag away and climbed back into the bed with her. Sansa curled on, her head on his chest, with his arm around her anchoring her to him.

           “Are you pleased little bird?” Sansa hummed.

           “I am happier than I have been since… since my father died.” She whispered softly. Sandor was quiet, but continued to stroke his large hand up and down her back. “Are you happy?” she asked softly. Sandor paused and shifted to meet her eyes incredulously.

           “Sansa… I have everything I ever could possibly want except to be free from this horrible place. I doubt I have any memories that could hold a candle to this moment.” For a man who said he didn’t do pretty words, he certainly was good at them Sansa mused. Suddenly she laughed.

           “What are you laughing about now little bird?”

           “Joffrey thinks he has final succeeded in making me miserable for the rest of my life, thinks he has tied me to my eternal tormentor.” She paused to giggle again. “Instead he’s given me you, given me this, everything I could hope for in a husband, in a protector. He’s done the exact opposite of what he meant to do and he has no idea.” Sansa said conspiratorially. Sandor chuckled as well.

           “Yes I suppose the little shit has finally fucked up royally” Sandor mused. Sansa nodded and then began to feel tired. She snuggled deeper into Sandor’s chest and closed her eyes; letting the thrum of his heart and his heat lull her into sleep.

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Morning After

        She woke the next morning earlier than she normally would, or perhaps the light was just different on this side of the keep. They’d changed positions in the night, Sandor had curled around her completely; her back pressed completely to his front. She wriggled a bit and grinned as she felt his manhood pressed tightly against her bottom. She wriggled more, the now somewhat familiar warmth pooling in her stomach. Sandor growled and tightened his arm around her waist. She chuckled and pressed herself back against him.

        “Careful little bird” he mumbled into her ear. She chuckled and continued. Suddenly he was above her, holding her down as he rubbed himself against her core. “Is that what you want?” He murmured as he leant down to nip at the spot behind her ear. Sansa moaned and nodded. He ground himself against her more, causing her to get wet.

        “Please Sandor” She murmured. He groaned and finally slid himself into her. The stretch wasn’t as painful as it had been the night before, but she was sore in an almost good way. But she could still feel every inch of him, and could feel an ache in her legs and her lady region. “Gods Sandor” she moaned. He moaned as well and drove himself into her hurriedly. She reached up to touch him and eh grabbed her hands and pinned then down by the wrist, using his other hand to drag over her body. She moaned again, arching her back against his hold, enjoying once again the power he held over her. Knowing that he could break her, but was instead giving her such pleasure.

        “Fuck Sansa” He said softly and paused to lean down and kiss her bruisingly, pulling at the already formed bruise there. He groaned and sat back up, driving in and out of her quickly, seeking both of their pleasures. His free hand drifted down to rub on her nub, hoping to have her pleasure before his, knowing he wouldn’t last long, being able to see this wanton creature, who was all his. Her hips arched against his hand and he groaned as it changed the angle he slid into her. He hit something in her that made her yell and clench around him, her orgasm driving through her. The feel of her contracting around him was enough to have him spilling inside of her again. HE panted as he released her wrists. Her hands immediately came up to rub over his chest. Exploring he realised. He stayed in her long after he had softened, only pulling away when it looked like she was going to fall asleep. He watched somewhat fascinated as a bit of seed spilled out of her. She would eventually be pregnant with his pups if she didn’t take precautionary measures. Would she want that? Did he want that? He supposed they would need to talk about it. A lot of talking was going into this whole thing. Sandor was a man of action, words didn’t come easily to him, but he knew that he needed to try for her sake. He nodded to himself and curled his arms around her, chasing the light sleep she was obviously enjoying. He dozed lightly for a while before being awoken by a knock on the door. He sat up and covered Sansa before grabbing a robe and his small clothes to put on.

        “Yes” he said as he opened the door. It was Shae smirking at him.

        “I brought this for lady Sansa to take. She needs to take it every morning so that she doesn’t have a child before she is ready” Shae said, handing him a bag of tealeaves. “One scoop of the leaves, make sure to drink it all before it is cool.” Sandor nodded. It seemed Shae was thinking on the same lines as him.

        “Uhhh… Thanks.” He grunted. “Will you bring up breakfast for us? See if the still have any figs, she likes those. Or any left over lemon cake” He blushed, realising he was revealing the extent of his regard to Shae. Even though she knew he loved Sansa, he was being romantic, in his own way he supposed.

        “So not only do you want to bring her pleasure in the marriage bed but you want to bring her her favourite foods.” Shae nodded approvingly and laughed at Sandor’s blush. “Yes she told me what happened in the tub yesterday. Did you bring her pleasure last night as well?” Shae asked, obviously enjoying how awkward Sandor was feeling.

        “Can’t you just bring breakfast? Meddling woman.” He groaned. Shae tittered and turned to walk away. He rolled his eyes, might as well get her back. “Shae?” He said quietly. She turned. “I brought her pleasure this morning as well” With that he closed the door on Shae’s shocked face. He heard her laughter through the door though. He supposed it wasn’t such a bad thing to be friendly with someone. He walked back over to the bed where Sansa was snoozing. He leaned down and kissed her. She mumbled quietly and her eyes fluttered opened.

        “Mmm it seems I haven’t been dreaming this whole time,” She murmured sleepily. She looked beautiful. She had purple marks up and down her neck, her hair was a mess and Sandor has never seen anything more amazing.

        “No, no dreaming. You’re really married to an ugly old dog.” He huffed. Sansa sat up and stared at him angrily.

        “Don’t call yourself that! You shame yourself and me! Plus you’re not a dog, not anymore. You’re a wolf by the ways of my people,” she said haughtily. Sandor chuckled.

        “Yes Lord Tyrion did mention that men who married above their station were able to be elevated, in the same way that women are when they marry.” Sandor said, enjoying how she looked like a puffed up robin, his little bird. She nodded seriously and then stretched languidly. She moved to get out of bed, but her legs were unable to support her and crumpled beneath her. Sandor caught her and huffed out a laugh. “I suppose I should take that as a compliment” HE said with a laugh. She giggled blushing brightly. He carried her to the table and set her down carefully, he helped her into her shift and then wrapped the cloak he had given her last night as a symbol of protection around her. She fingered the stitches of the cloak questioningly looking up at him. “I had a sister,” He said before she could ask her question.

        “Had?” Sansa asked softly. Sandor huffed but nodded.

        “Gregor… he. My father said that she had been in a riding accident, but I knew Eli and I knew her horse. That horse wasn’t spooked by anything and Eli always asked me to ride with her. Plus I saw… I saw the bruises on her neck when she was brought to be buried. Gregor killed her, just like he killed my mother, my father, just like he tried to kill me” Sandor’s breath was shaky, and he couldn’t meet Sansa’s eyes, but he had told her. Sansa’s hand found his.

        “She made this for you.” She said. It wasn’t a question but Sandor nodded.

        “She didn’t quite make it. It’s the cloak my father gave my mother. But she did the embroidery on it. She sat beside me after Gregor pushed me into the fire and stitched so I wouldn’t be alone. She said… she told me that I would find someone that would love me, not despite my scars, but because of them. I always… In the beginning I had hoped she was right, but after she was gone I knew there wouldn’t be anyone who could.” He had never said that to anyone, had never even dared utter the words she had spoken to him all those years ago. Sansa smiled and stood from her chair, coming to sit on Sandor’s lap, her hand sneaking up to cup his scarred cheek.

        “She was right.” Sansa whispered. Sandor felt tears build in his eyes, but before he could think about shedding them the door burst open and shae came in baring a huge platter of food. There was cold meat, cheese and warm bread and lemon cakes and figs and even bananas that had been shipped in from Dorne. It was a feast fit for a king. She also took the tea leaves she had given Sandor and placed them into a teacup, which she poured hot water over.

        “You two look a bit solemn for people who probably spent the whole night shagging.” Shae said, breaking the tension in the room. Sansa laughed and piled food onto a plate, deciding not to leave Sandor’s lap where it was much warmer.

        “Thanks for bringing this Shae! I am starving. And lemon cakes and figs! My favourite thank you!” Sansa munched happily and Sandor met Shae’s eyes. Shaking his head, as he knew what she was about to do.

        “Well your husband actually asked if I might find some figs and lemon cake for you, as he knows how much you favour them.” Shae said. Sandor glared at her, but softened as Sansa turned to give him a sweet kiss. Shae smiled at them as she gathered their bedding, pleased to see that there was evidence enough to convince the court that they were man in wife in every sense of the word.


	5. Chapter 5

       They were only given two days reprieve before Sansa was called in front of the court. She had bruises around her neck, her hips, and around her wrists. She was sure there would be ones on her arms, or anywhere that she had caused him to hold her tightly as they lay together as man and wife. Sandor hadn’t hurt her, but she bruised like a peach anyways and Sandor was enthusiastic in their couplings. Of which there had been many. She had made sure to drink her tea every morning, knowing that she would likely be with a babe if she had not. Surely the amount of times he had spilt in her already would be enough to create a baby. She wanted that one-day. One with her blue eyes and Sandor’s dark hair. Or his slate eyes and her red hair. A son that looked just like him. She smiled thinking about it, knowing that that future was closer to her grasp than it had ever been. She had a chance to be truly happy with him. And she was going to take it.

       “Ah my lady Sansa, so good of you to join us. Tell me, how are you finding married life?” Joffrey was seated on the iron throne, Sandor behind him guarding him as always. Sansa made sure to sing her song perfectly. She glanced up and immediately back down. She fiddled with the sleeves of her dress, drawing every ones attention there.

       “I.. Good your grace. You were so gracious to give me such a good match. Surely a man so loyal is the best someone with traitor blood like I have could ask for.” Sansa flinches as Joffrey laughed, doing her best to make sure it looked like she was being abused. She fidgeted with her sleeve once more and stared at the floor.

       “Come closer Sansa. I’d like to take a good look at you.” Sansa stepped forward but didn’t look up. “Dog, I see that there are some marks on the good lady.” Joffrey said, smiling cruelly.

       “Aye your majesty. She was a bit feisty during the bedding. And all the other times she was brought to the bed.” Sansa bit her lip to stop from laughing. Sandor hadn’t lied. But he had also omitted the fact that her being feisty had more to do with the race to get him naked and inside of her or her mouth on him or his mouth on her than it was trying to fight back in a desperation to protect her virtue.

       “Yes I did inspect the wedding sheets myself. There was more blood than I expected. Though I supposed Lady Sansa didn’t lay back and do her womanly duty.” Joffrey smirked. Sansa whimpered.

       “No your grace. But she knows better than to fight me now.” Sandor intoned. Sansa almost smirked. As if she would ever stop being active in their bed, on the chairs, on the bearskin in front of the fireplace, on their balcony, there were so many places in which to press against Sandor and ‘fight him’. Sansa stayed silent, knowing that she was likely receiving pitying looks from those in court. As if they had cared when it was Joffrey beating her, as if it was okay for one to do it but not the other.

       “Very good hound, perhaps you’ll break the bitch yet. Continue on as you would. I believe she’ll soon whelp some pups for you, then you can continue the Clegane line as your brother will never marry.” Joffrey smirked. “Ser Meryn… would you please see.” The court silences as the doors opened and Tyrion walked in escorting the young Prince Tommen.

       “Apologies your grace, but Lady Sansa and her husband agreed to escort me to the Kingswood today.” Tommen said pleasantly. Joffrey sighed but waved his hand, obviously dismissing them. Sandor walked down from behind the throne and stood by Sansa, grabbing her arm and escorting her roughly from the court, following Tommen out. As soon as the door closed eh dropped his grip and his sour expression.

       “How can we be of service my prince?” Sandor asked. Tommen smiled.

       “I wish to go for a ride in the Kingswood. Actually perhaps we could make it a night in the Kingswood. The weather is so nice, and what do you Starks always say, winter is coming. Might as well take advantage of it while we can.” He stated, leading the way to where their new chambers were. He paused and waited for Sandor to open them, allowing Sansa in first.

       “That would be most lovely my prince. I will need to change into riding clothes and boots. Perhaps we should call for a maid to gather a pack for us so that we have food and ointments should something go wrong.” Sansa said as she went behind the changing screen holding her leather riding breeches, the one that she could wear beneath an elegant tunic.

       “I have already done so, and you may call me Tommen Lady Sansa, we are to be friends.” Tommen said. He always was straightforward. It made Sansa smile.

       “Of course Tommen, you may call me Sansa” she said as she came around the changing screen. She took down her hair and began braiding it in a simple braid that would keep it from her face. “Shall we go?” She asked as she finished. Tommen nodded eagerly and led the way. Sansa held out her hand and Sandor huffed and rolled his eyes but offered her his arm anyways. She smiled brightly at him. The three of them made their way down to the stables where Sandor proceeded to saddle Stranger, leaving the stable boys to get Tommen and Sansa’s horses sorted. As he had said, there were saddlebags waiting for them, which Sandor allocated between the three of the horses. Soon they were riding through the gates to the keep and out of the city. The Kingswood was about an hours ride away, and they kept up idle chatter the whole way there. Sandor was mostly silent, letting Tommen and Sansa do most of the speaking, but he put in his opinion where he had one, and was freer with his words than he would normally be. It was a lovely day, the sun was shining and it hadn’t rained properly in a while so the ground was too dry for there to be any mud on the road. The Kingswood was normally empty, with it being reserved only for the royal family and plenty of people having met their death for breaking that law.

       “So tell me…” Sandor began after they had dismounted in a sunny knoll and let the horses free to graze. “Little prince, why do you want us to be your friends?” His question wasn’t unkind, simply stated like most of his words. Tommen smiled at them.

       “Well, I think both of you have been unfairly treated. By my family, by the king, by everyone. I don’t…” Tommen paused. “I know the truth, of who my father is. I knew when all of the bastards were ordered to be killed. I know what my brother is, what my mother is. I know I’m only 11, but I have seen more than I was supposed to. At first it was just that Sir pounce was getting out and I was worried that Joffrey would find him like he did Sir Boots and Lady White. But then I realised there were a lot of places I could hide and hear what was said. And Vary’s little birds as he calls them are my other friends. They tell me their secrets as well because I am kind to them. I want you to be my friends because I want some good to come from my family, even if it is only kindness to you two.” Tommen said fiercely. He looked older than his age, looked like someone who could be king. He stared at the two of them. Sandor nodded.

       “That is as good a reason as I have ever heard. I have been here since you were born Tommen, I have tried to help you in any way I can. I have no qualms about being your friends. Even if I had, what you did for Sansa on our wedding night would have put me forever in your debt.” Sandor said seriously. Sansa smiled and pressed a kiss to Sandor’s cheek.

       “I would be honoured to be your friend Tommen. I am sorry that you have been exposed to the atrocities of the world so soon, that there was no one there to protect you, but I would be happy to share in your troubles.” Sansa said seriously. Tommen nodded and hugged both of them, Sandor surprising both Sansa and Tommen as he brought his arms around the small prince. They spent the rest of the day wandering around the woods. Sandor helped the prince to learn how to set snares and catch hares, showing him how to kill them with the least amount of pain and how to skin them so that the furs could be reused. Tommen didn’t seem to enjoy their deaths, but understood that it was necessary to survive. They found a grassy knoll to watch the sunset where they set up camp. Tommen asked kindly if he could sleep with them in their tent, stating that he wasn’t used t being alone. Sandor had agreed immediately and allowed the prince to sleep in between them, snuggled in their arms, with their laced hands resting over his chest. Sansa marvelled at how good Sandor was with him, how obviously it was that he loved the prince. She wondered how she had missed this, the obvious comraddery between the two. IT gave her an insight into how good of a father Sandor would be.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Tyrell's come to Kings Landing

          The next morning Sansa woke to the sound of laughter outside of the tent. Sandor and Tommen were already gone, leaving her to sleep. She stretched, never knowing she could enjoy sleeping on the ground as much as she had. She pulled on her tunic and breeches after changing her small clothes and grabbing a brush. She left the tent to see Sandor showing Tommen how to light a fire, how to tell the right stones to use. It was amazing, seeing Sandor willingly being around fire to teach the young prince.  
          “Good Morning Sansa” Tommen said, looking up from where he had just started a fire. Sansa smiled.  
          “Good Morning Tommen. Sandor, could you please help me put ointment on my back?” Sandor nodded and stood. He pulled out the ointment, hiking up her tunic top and began to put it on her back. Her scabs were healing well they would barely be visible.  
          “Are those from Joffrey?” Tommen’s voice was small, but no less serious in its intonation. Sandor and Sansa looked at him and nodded. “Why?” Tommen asked. Sansa sighed.  
          “He punishes me for what my brother does in battle. Those are from when Robb secured the Frey’s as allies by marrying Roslin Frey. It gave him free reign to cross the Twins.” Sansa explained as Sandor did up her dress again.  
          “How is that your fault?” Tommen asked, not quite confused, but seeming more shocked than surprised.  
          “Well it’s not. But since he cannot punish Robb, he punishes me. It is like trial by combat, but I am not allowed to fight back.” Sansa explained. Tommen’s face screwed up angrily.  
          “That is not justice. That’s idiocy. How does that make him any better than the mad king burning people for no reason?” Tommen stomped around the campsite angrily. “I would be a better king. But if it ever comes to that I cannot be king, knowing what I am, knowing that I am a Waters. I would need to abdicate. But then who would be king? There is Deanerys with her dragons. She has more claim to the throne than I do. Or even one of Robert Baratheon’s Bastards. Or perhaps the people won’t care and my mother will keep power. Or maybe they will have the lords choose a new king.” Tommen shook his head.  
          “Politics is not as easy as it should be assuredly.” Sandor said, placing his hands on the pacing boys shoulders. Tommen looked up and met Sandor’s eyes.  
          “Why don’t people care about helping people though?” He asked. Sandor shrugged.  
          “It’s not always like it is at court. I promise you, there are people who care about people below them. As you know the North is very different from the south. And even in the time of Robert ruling the stormlands… the Lannister’s are a bad example of how to rule.” Sandor said seriously. Tommen bit his lip and nodded.  
          “Not all of them” He said firmly. Sansa nodded and placed her hand next to Sandor’s on Tommen’s shoulders.  
          “no, not all of them. You don’t have to be a Waters. You can be legitimized by a king or Queen. You can be a Lannister and go to Casterly Rock.” She said to him. Tommen Scoffed.  
          “And who is going to legitimize me? I am from the most hated family in Westeros. People would sooner see me burn for what my family has done to them.” Tommen said sadly.  
          “But not all people believe that people should be punished for what their families have done. There are different rulers from the Joffrey’s of the world Tommen. Perhaps the Dragon Queen or the Sansa’s brother Robb, the King in the North, or even Stannis Baratheon could come to rule the 7 kingdoms. Or maybe it will all fall into ruin and no one will care who your family used to be.” Sandor said softly. Tommen nodded and squared his shoulders.

          They spent the morning picking berries and fresh fruit from the tree’s, before riding back to the Red Keep. Sandor noticed how Sansa got tenser the closer they got to the keep, how Tommen also sat up straighter and closed off his face. He wondered if the two of them would be granted happiness anytime soon. They were greeted by the Queen Mother herself as they dismounted at the keep stables.  
          “Tommen where have you been! Where do you think you are going with these two?” Cersei certainly was terrifying in the face of her children being hurt.  
          “Mother, cease this. I was in the Kingswood with The Hound and Lady Stark. I was perfectly safe. I would remind you that you allowed Joffrey to do such at age 9, and I am 11, almost 12. I was simply enjoying the summer while it lasts. Afterall winter is coming.” Tommen never let his eyes stray from his mothers, hating her for what she had done, even as he loved her.  
          “You told no one where you were!” She cried. She looked less worried and more inquisitive now. Tommen nodded.  
          “I told my Guards, and the King knew. I also told someone to alert you. I apologise that word never got to you, but I was perfectly safe mother. The Hound is most loyal to us isn’t he?” Tommen said seriously. With that he turned and directed the stable hands to take his and Sansa’s horses, leaving Sandor to sort Stranger himself, knowing the horse wasn’t easily dealt with. He escorted Sansa to her chambers, and gave her hand a squeeze before leaving for his own. Sansa bolted the door after him, sensing as he did that there was something stirring in the air that could bode ill for them. Cersei must have known where her son was, was she worried that they would harm the prince, or did she know that the prince knew more than he tended to let on? It was a mystery. A knock at the door startled her.  
          “It’s me little bird, let me in.” Came the voice of her husband. She unbolted the door and let him in, immediately bolting the door behind him.  
          “Cersei was being odd, that cannot bode well.” Sansa said as Sandor stripped off his cloak.  
          “the Tyrells are here. Lady Olena is in court, and her granddaughter Margery is to marry Joffrey.” Sandor said as he washed his face in the washing basin.  
          “Lady Olena will sooner have Joffrey murdered than let him be cruel to her granddaughter.” Sansa said firmly. Sandor paused and looked at her.  
          “How powerful are the Tyrell’s? Could they get away with killing the king?” he asked seriously. Sansa nodded.  
          “They control all the food in Westeros almost. 5 of the kingdoms depend on them, Kings landing depends on them. They are also… according to whispers, according to Tommen, they are more wealthy than the Lannister’s. The mines at Lannisport have dried up. The mines in High Garden have not. They have more power than the Lannister’s if they chose to exercise it to the full extent. And Lady Olena puts her family before anything. She loves her Grandchildren fiercely, and would kill the Gods themselves if they were to hurt her family. ‘Grow Strong’, those are their words, and Lady Olena certainly has.” Sansa said seriously. “We need to make allies with them, or we need to leave court. I have more reason than anyone to kill Joffrey, to hate him. If he dies, they will put me on trial.” Sansa looked thoughtful and worried.  
          “I won’t let anyone hurt you.” Sandor said, sliding his arms around her waist. He pondered what their options were. He could always take her out of the city, turn craven and run to her brother. They could probably make it, depending on how distracted Joffrey was. If he had a pretty new bride to entertain he would probably not be too worried. But Cersei would notice, if she thought her children were in danger that could distract her. There were too many variables. What other options did they have though? What would happen if they succeeded in killing Joffrey only for Tommen to abdicate the throne like he said he would. Sandor believed him, that he wouldn’t take the throne. They would kill him. If Sandor and Sansa left they would be abandoning him to the lions and stags and fucking roses that would sooner see him dead than let him live out his life in peace. Mercy was not something anyone in Kings landing was familiar with, or likely to exercise.

 

          Sansa was summoned to the Gardens for tea with Lady Olena the next week. She insisted that Sandor join her, worried that someone would hurt her, but also knowing that she was being sized up and if she wasn’t careful her future would be decided for her once again, and it wasn’t likely that it would end up as well as it had this time. Lady Olena had no loyalties here, she would not hesitate to use Sansa’s high birth if she thought she could get away with it, Maidens Veil or not. Sandor tried to get out of it, but one look from Sansa had him reaching for his nice breeches with a sigh. He wasn’t used to the pleasantries of court, but if he was a Stark now then he supposed that he would need to get used to them. He knew what people expected of him, but he would be on his best manners for Sansa.  
The Gardens were beautiful, and Sansa wished she could spend more time in the, but there were spies everywhere, even now she could see two of Vary’s spies in the bushes pretending to play hide and seek. She had planned for that though and had sweets in her pocket. She discretely held them out, not turning her head when she felt them taken out of her palm and saw out of the corner of her eyes the two of them scurrying off. At least this conversation would be between only the people present. Sandor had nodded at her when he saw the children. He placed his other hand over her’s where it held onto his arm. Lady Olena was surrounded by her nieces when they approached, but they scurried off at the sight of the hound. Lady Olena regarded them quietly, Margery sat next to her, looking confused. Sansa met their eyes head on, daring them to ask the question that she knew was playing on their tongue.  
          “So it is true that you were wedded to a Clegane, the hound.” Lady Olena said with a huff. Sansa smirked but nodded.  
          “Yes my lady, I have been wed to Sandor for over a week now. Though truly it feels like longer.” She said, sitting primly in the seat Sandor pulled out for her. Lady Olena regarded the two of them carefully and nodded.  
          “Have a seat Clegane.” She said gesturing to the chair next to Sansa. He sat carefully, looking out of place. Sansa couldn’t help put place a hand on his and smile reassuringly at them. “I have been told that you are being raped twice daily and that you cries echo around the castle the same way some said your aunts did when she was kept prisoner by the Targaryan prince.” The lady olena didn’t mince words. Sandor respected her for it.  
          “No my lady, they aren’t lies. Simply observations made when they were meant to be made. I was supposed to be miserable when I was married to Sandor, it was meant to make me miserable for the rest of my life.” Sansa said primly. Lady Olena nodded, but Margery seemed confused.  
          “And you aren’t miserable?” Margery asked softly.  
          “No. I am the happiest I have been since my Father was put to death. Sandor is a good man, and he cares for me. Just because Joffery can’t see it doesn’t mean it isn’t true.” Sansa said seriously. There was an awkward silence at that. Lady Olena nodded, seeming happy with the news rather than surprised.  
          “So tell me, truthfully now. What is Joffrey like? My Grandaughter is to be his queen.” Lady Olena’s eyes were like hawks, waiting for Sansa to fall prey to them. She wouldn’t be prey, but she already knew how this was going to go. Knew that she was now being entrenched in the game of thrones and there was no winning for her, she didn’t want to win. She wanted to leave Kings Landing and never look back.  
          “Joffrey is the king.” She began but Sandor cut in.  
          “You should kill him if that is what you are planning. He will beat your pretty little flower just like he beat my little bird. He will ruin her so thoroughly that she won’t be recognisable.” Sandor growled out. Margery seemed taken aback, but Lady Olena nodded.  
          “He hurt you child?” Sansa bit her lip and Sandor squeezed her hand kindly.  
          “I have the scars to prove it. He didn’t hit me directly at first. He ordered others to hit me, to beat me, to strip me bare in front of the whole court. He gave me to his loyal hound so that I would be bloodied and sullied and beaten into submission. He wanted me raped and hurt constantly. He is a monster. Sandor is right, you should have him killed like you are planning on. You would be better off. I have also been told you are speaking to Lord Baylish. Don’t trust whatever littlefinger tells you. He betrayed my father to further his own gain, and he will do the same with you.” Sansa said as she bit into a lemon cake that had been on a plate in front of her.  
          “And the prince, Tommen. What is he like?” Margery asked softly. Sansa looked at Sandor who shrugged. Should they reveal Tommen’s secret; that he would never accept the kingship that he would abdicate. Sansa decided that Margery hadn’t asked that and so she wouldn’t tell her. It was up to Tommen, and though it was likely to come to that if Lady Olena got away with her treason.  
          “Tommen is the sweetest, kindest human in the whole of Kings Landing. If there is any one who deserves to be king in this horrible place it is him. He would rule with kindness and wisdom. Everyone loves him. I love him.” Sansa said softly. She met Lady Olena’s eyes. “If he were to come to harm, I would do everything in my power to make sure that those that harmed him were brought to justice.” She said seriously. Lady Olena paused and then nodded.  
          “And you Hound? What do you think of Tommen?”  
          “It is as my wife says. Tommen is kind and just. I too love that boy.” He ground out. Sansa smiled at him.  
          “And your wife, do you love her?” The question came out of nowhere, and Sansa couldn’t figure what the point of it was. There was something she didn’t understand. There was nothing to gain except for knowing that Sansa was a weakness of Sandor’s. But there was no guarantee that they could exploit that. It didn’t make sense.  
          “Yes, more than anything.”  
          “Then you must leave kings landing. I won’t have you implicated should anything arise. She may be a Clegane now, but she is still Sansa Stark. And she has a kingly brother in the North who is fighting to get to her. The Bolton’s have revolted and taken Winterfell and he is not sure if he should go back home or make his way south. The north must be secured, and there must always be a stark in Winterfell. My people tell me that Bran and Rickon got out of Winterfell before it fell to the Iron born and then to the Bolton’s. If they still live I am not sure. But the king in the North is still alive. And it is time for his sister to go home. I remember your father Sansa. He was a just man, he was good and kind and stubborn as a bull. I know what he said is true. I know that the Baratheon boys are bastards. Anyone with eyes could see that. If you love Tommen you will take him with you, or you will leave him here and let fate decide.” Lady Olena paused and looked at her granddaughter and sighed shaking her head. Margery looked more confused than anything.“You may be pretty but you’re an idiot. The Starks are wolves my little rose. But they are honourable and Lady Sansa has not lied to us. She wants out of here, and if we are the ones to release her, how do you think her brother will take that. Joffrey will need to be dealt with, truly repugnant boy that he is. Cersei is another issue. And it is likely that when Lady Sansa makes her way back to her brother, that the Tyrells will be regarded highly for helping her to become free from a tyrant king who killed the head of their house and imprisoned one sister and lost the other.”  
          “And how do you suppose that we get out of the city?” Sandor asked haughtily.  
          “I think I might be able to help with that.” The prince appeared out of nowhere, clutching sir pounce to his chest. Sansa smiled at him. Lady Olena seemed a bit alarmed at his appearance but allowed him to sit. Margery’s eyes sharpened and Sansa noted that suddenly she didn’t appear as dim as she once did.  
          “How did you find us here, why did you sneak up on my guards?” Lady Olena demanded.  
          “Sansa gave the whisperers candy and they reported back to me. Sir pounce is as good a distraction as anything. I knew what was happening. I know what you plan to do. But there is one problem. I will not be king. I am a bastard, Stannis Baratheon is the rightful heir to the throne, or even the Dragon queen. Not me. I don’t want to rule.” Tommen spoke as if he was 10 years older than he was, confident and sure in his choices. Sansa couldn’t help but admire his bravery. “And you were wrong, Sandor isn’t a Clegane anymore. They were wed in the traditions of the north, and in the North Sandor would have adopted his wife’s higher status. He is by all means a northern lord now, a Stark.” Tommen said, meeting Olena’s eyes. She nodded.  
          “That may be so, but no lordship will save them if they do not leave kings landing. You also need to leave my prince. You will not be safe. It is time something other than a Lion or a Stag held power. ‘Grow strong’, that is my houses motto, and that is what I intend to have my house do. When it is all settled, perhaps you will be welcomed back, as a Lannister.” She said kindly.  
          “And my mother and father?” Tommen asked. He paused. “Uncle… my father has always been kind to me, he has always tried his best to be there for me.”  
          “Jamie Lannister is a prisoner of the stark’s now. He was meant to be traded for the two stark girls. Of which I have noticed that one is missing. Where is young Arya?” Olena asked.  
          “No one knows.” Tommen answered. “She must have been smuggled out of the city before she could be found. Unless she reached the wall unnoticed, she has not been seen.” Tommen continued. He blushed. “I have been listening to whispers where I can. I learned long ago that only whispers are truthful, where nothing else in this city is.” He said softly. Lady Olena nodded. She regarded the three of them carefully.  
          “You have until the wedding to leave the city. I cannot help you, nor will I help you if the Lannister’s come after you. You will need to be cunning. And you need to be careful. Loyalties are a strange thing right now.” Lady Olena said. She turned to Margery.  
          “And what shall we do about you my dear?” She looked at her granddaughter.  
          “I shall be married to Joffrey and consummate our marriage. When I am pregnant with his child, or a child he will no longer be necessary. I will rule as queen regent until our child is born and of age. And if a daughter is born, then we will take the city by force. No one would be shocked that the Tyrell army is in the city protecting the queen and the future ruler of westeros. Even Cersei couldn’t say anything. And Lord Lannister is too smart to try and defeat us now, he cannot afford another war with the way that he is losing to Robb Stark. When that happens we will welcome Stannis Baratheon back into the city and I will rule as queen. He shall be my king.” Margery said. Sansa approved of the girl. She was able to act dim-witted when truly she was more intelligent than she let on. That would serve her well in this city. If she could put on a mask then she would be better equipped to defeat her enemies here. Sansa had learned that too late and suffered for it.

**Author's Note:**

> this is an ongoing work and any feedback is welcome!


End file.
